


To Love A Killer

by NegansOtherWife



Series: To Love A Teacher [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Children, Death, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Swearing, Teaching, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-18 14:06:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13683213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegansOtherWife/pseuds/NegansOtherWife
Summary: The only thing standing between her and her wedding day is a ritualistic cult, the undead, and catty ex-wives. Seems easy enough.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> We're back! Just like I promised, and we have a sequel to my most popular story! Enjoy and let me know what you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, wow, wow!
> 
> So I'm back just like I promised, and my writing has definitely improved. Looking back I absolutely cringe, but the thing is... I can only get better as I continue to write. Today marks a year on AO3 and the responses I've gotten to my stories, and the way I've grown is amazing! Thank you for reading. Thank you for liking and sharing! Thank you. Thank you. I'm updating ALL my stories today, so, why not stay awhile?
> 
> Enjoy x

The dead had taught me so much.

Hear me out before you call me crazy.

When the dead had risen and society had fallen, I was thrust into a world of treachery and killing. I was forced to learn how to survive. Now, by that point in my life, I’d traveled across several states, befriended nomads and lone colonies alike, each with their own personal tragedy. All the while, I’d watched people die and continuously held on to the hope that my family was still alive. If I was sure of anything— it was this.

One.

I would lose people that I love. That was a given.

Two.

There was no way that I would ever be happy again.

Even if I did find my family completely unscathed, even if I’d waltzed through the front door of my home, and ran straight into my father's arms… there was no way that I’d ever feel the beginning of laughter bubble up from my throat, or have a small smile unconsciously play across my lips as a lingering sense of joy plays from an earlier memory. I was so sure of this, so set in my ways.

The dead had taught me that I was wrong and that it’s okay.

I’d been so wrong. I’d lost people and I’d shed my fair amount of tears, yes, but I’d gained so much. Gained so many reasons to be wrong. A whole factory of them, they were my people now, and I loved them. I was happy— gloriously happy.

He made me happy. Loved and protected.

Negan.

Negan.

“Negan,” I sob helplessly as his face appears at the forefront of my mind, and in the next moment, the cold hands of reality pull me to the surface. For a time, I’d been gloriously floating in a state of in-between, but his face serves to remind me of where I am— who I am. It grounds me.

The Sanctuary. Charlie. Negan.

There’s so much blood, the wet sticky feeling drips down my legs and pools around my feet as I tremble from the cold draft.Through the missing headlight of the car I lay in, I can barely make out much detail. Only a fragmented view of the road as the bumper of the car steadily eats away at the pavement.

A low moan escapes my throat as I sluggishly begin to grasp reality, broken pleas fall from my cracked lips as my eyes begin to adjust to the blackness, hoping that they’ll hear me.

It’s useless.

“Negan,” The mangled sound that falls from my bruised lips closely resembles his name, as I beat against the trunk of the car.

It’s hopeless, I know this now.

I cry out for him again, as my battered body becomes limp, the steady thrum of the car engine serving to remind me that I am being taken away from everything and everyone I care about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. Reviews make me write quicker and kudos make my day.
> 
> Okay, mwah x


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying the first couple of chapters. If you've been gone awhile you should totally check out my other works. This fic is pretty much "nice" Negan, but I dabble in the mean kind. ;)

“Wow, I still can’t believe he made that all by himself.” Sherry and I both marvel at the way my ring glints in the sunlight. It’s so, _shiny_. Visions of Negan hunched over one of the machines in the garage out back, carefully crafting my ring, make me practically shiver with delight.

Hell, maybe I’ll blow him tonight. 

I’m feeling generous. 

Now, don’t get me wrong. He’s still a jackass. He’s insensitive at times, stubborn, and forgets to put the toilet seat down. And since I’d moved in just under two months ago, I hadn’t _once_ seen him put his dirty clothes in the laundry basket. But, I digress. I’ve never been so happy. 

 _He_ makes me happy. 

In my own kinky and fucked up way, I’d found love… in a man who’d attempted to shoot me. But love, nonetheless.

I absentmindedly brush the faint scar on my forehead.

Ah, love.

Between us, Anne sits up and attempts to scoot off the blanket that we’re currently sitting on. With reflexes honed and perfected from weeks of looking after these brats, and I say that affectionately, Sherry catches the back of her onesie before she can topple over, head over ass. 

“Good one,” I tease her. “ _Grade-A_ mother material.” 

Around us, the usual buzz of the courtyard is in full swing as Sherry and I take it all in from beneath our tree. I spot my brother in the gardens, chatting alongside his girlfriend as he waters plants, and I revel in the sight of him. My brother. Someone I thought I’d never see again, and while I’m glad he’s alive, well… does he really have to date? The idea of him with a girlfriend still brings a sour taste to my mouth.

I want to kill her.

Ok, I’m kidding.

At least, I think so. 

Negan offered, but I should at least _attempt_ to reel him in at times.

I told him I’d sleep on it.

Sherry’s strangely quiet after my joke, and I sit up to regard her fully, breaking away from my homicidal thoughts of my brother’s girlfriend. With slight suspicion, I query, “What’s wrong with you?”

She’s quiet for a long moment, placing Anne in her lap before gazing past her head to the kids that are playing close to the fence— too close. 

“I’ll go,” I say, already on my feet. Really, I can’t catch a break with these kids. It was always something, and today was no exception. As I approached the huddled masses, I immediately identified the culprits.

Of course, Liam and Lucas.

I swear if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Satan himself had spawned them. I say that with an affectionate tone, of course. 

“What the hell are you doing?” I yelp. Although why I ask is beyond me, as the answer is pretty clear. One of the biters that are staked along the Sanctuary’s fence has obviously decayed, it’s upper half still moving, as it’s lower extremities lay pooled around the body.

Before me, Liam stands over Charlotte with a piece of dead flesh hanging from a stick. Her cheeks damp with silent tears. He jumps, dropping the stick, and looks sheepish as the rest of them observe my fury.

“I told him not to Miss Kimberly, but he wouldn’t listen,” I silence Jane with a look, and she quiets quickly. Now is not the time. 

“Go,” I motion to the rest of them to leave and bend down to hoist Charlotte into my arms. Her face has gone a deathly shade of white, and she hasn’t said anything. “You okay, sweetie?” She buries her head into my neck with a whimper, and I rub her back comfortingly.

From a couple yards away I watch The Saviors getting ready for a short run, and I get an idea. “Wanna go say bye to daddy?” She agrees with a soft nod against my neck. 

Charlotte is light as a feather and I make my way swiftly across the yard, calling out for her father, Tayler when I’m close enough. His head pops out from underneath the hood of one of the cars, and when he sees Charlotte in my arms he rushes forward.

“Shit, what happened?” My heart breaks when he reaches for her. Tayler’s a single parent, trying to do his best, and I know it can be rough on him finding someone to look after the kids when he’s gone. He’s always worrying. I don’t blame him. I explain to him briefly the situation, and I watch as his mouth ticks in annoyance.

I pass her to Tayler for a brief moment and watch as he strokes her hair, softly shuffling back and forth to soothe her. “I’m gonna take her for a little walk,” He informs me, and I wave him off.

Only a short moment later the baby hairs on the back of my neck raise before I’m enveloped by a familiar pair of arms. “Hello, my dear fiancé.”

“Hello, my dear jackass,” I greet. From where I’m standing I have a perfect view of Tabitha— Charlie’s girlfriend— as she playfully bats at my brother's arm. _Shouldn’t she be working?_

“Did you come to see me off, baby? And here I thought this morning was my goodbye,” He teases, spinning me around so he has my full attention. Tabitha’s annoying laughter carries through the air and I quirk my head to get a look. _What’s so fucking funny?_

“Are you listening to me?” I should have the decency to look ashamed, but I don’t. Rather, I turn in his arms when I hear her laugh again.

“What _is_ so fucking funny?” I grumble under my breath, Negan’s arms tighten around my waist keeping me from finding out. 

The zipper of his leather jacket rubs against my skin, and I reluctantly stop struggling and look into his warm eyes. There isn’t a trace of malice or his usual look of annoyance anywhere to be found. Just love, a shit ton of it. “Leave ‘em alone, Annie. Charlie's just a badass kid trying to get his dick wet.” My mouth puckers at his words.

Over Tabitha's dead body.

“Correction. She’s eighteen, Negan! Fucking eighteen, what does a _woman_ want with my little brother,” I interrupt him. I still haven’t gotten over the fact that she’s so old. I’d been okay with the idea at first, and by that I mean Charlie dating— but someone his own age. Once I’d found out, I’d demanded he put an end to it but Charlie had simply refused.

“She’ll steal his innocence,” I whisper as an afterthought, and Negan’s fingers dig teasingly into my side making me laugh against my own will.

“Like how you stole mine this morning,” My cheeks heat with the memory as I recall the way I’d ridden him earlier today. The early morning sun streaming in weakly through our window was the only source of light, as we'd moved languidly together amongst the sheets. “I’m not complaining, honey. Why don’t we see if we can sneak away for a moment? Get a little freaky,” His hands come to rest on the sliver of skin between my tank top and the waistband of my skirt. 

Before he can go on any further, Tayler walks toward us with Charlotte in his arms, “I’m sorry that Liam’s giving you a hard time, Kim. I’ll talk to him when I get back.” He’s frustrated, but when he notices Negan he straightens, upon passing her back to me.

I smile soothingly, “Don’t worry about it, T.”

"You’re doing great,” I assure him, he nods at Negan before hurrying back to his assignment. 

“I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. Huh, honey?” My hands rub Charlotte’s back soothingly as I take in the _distracted_ state of Negan. Knowing that he isn’t one for public affection, I squeeze his hand before I turn to go. But a gentle tug on my arm halts me and I’m surprised when he leans down to briefly place a kiss on my lips. 

“Love you,” I’ll never tire of those words falling from his lips, especially knowing that they’re only for me. The familiar curls of warmth grow in my stomach as I lean forward to deepen the kiss. Sighing, I let him gain access to my mouth so that our tongues touch.

Have I mentioned that I love this bat-wielding maniac?

“Yuck,” I break away, forgetting about the little girl in my arms. Yeah, he’s that good. We share a laugh as Charlotte wrinkles her button nose before burrowing further into my neck.

“Lucky girl,” I kiss Negan’s pout, promising that he’ll get his chance later before I leave.

All in all, just another day at The Sanctuary. Simple and orderly. 

There’d been a point in my life where I’d craved to break the endless cycle of school and work. I’d cursed the stability in my life, wishing for more. Months on the road and braving the unknown had taken its toll, and I’d paid for every single one of those malicious thoughts. Life at The Sanctuary was just what I needed, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Liam doesn’t love me.” Char’s quiet voice floats into my ear, and I pause mid-step before letting her down. Kneeing on the rough ground, I brush away the stray tears and kiss her on the cheek. I’m so mad at Liam, but I know it’s just him acting out. Still, I remind myself, I’ll have to talk to him later.

“Hey, none of that, brotherly love is forever,” I assure her.

“You promise.” Her tiny voice makes my heart clench and I squeeze her to me, knowing that I’m not only punishing Liam; but Sherry and me, when I decide right there to take away his recess privileges for the next two days.

“Honey, I swear. Brothers can act a little… _silly_ , at times. They can be really mean, and say hurtful things that injure our feelings. But no matter what, they’ll always love you.” While I attempt to soothe her, images of Charlie and I’s argument play behind my eyes like a movie. 

We haven’t spoken in three days. I miss him.

“You didn’t promise.” I refrain from rolling my eyes, because yeah, I kind of did. But I humor her anyway, tickling her sides until I hear her sweet laughter.

“I promise.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful comments! I'm so happy you're enjoying the story! 
> 
> Okay, mwah x

“My period is late.” Sherry’s quiet admission hangs between us and I brush the crumbs from lunch off my lap before turning to face her.

“Alright, no problem.” I gently placate her. Though we can both tell I’m not as nonchalant as my words let on. 

“It’s probably just stress.” I try again, hoping that this time my comfort will be—well, _comforting_.

“But what if it’s not?” She brushes Anne’s cheek absentmindedly while she talks. From underneath our tree, I steal periodic glances of the kids as they play a game of kickball, “I’m not ready to be a mom.”

I shift uneasily. This was untrodden territory to me. If my mother was here she’d know exactly what to say. How to put a smile on her face.

“What am I going to do, Kim?” I’m not exactly sure why’s she’s asking me. We both know that my decision-making skills wouldn’t exactly win any awards. I’m with a man who’d taken four wives, for Christ’s sake!

But still, I’ve been known to participate in a miracle or two.

“Why don’t I get you some tests? You can pee on them—wham bam! Wash your hands clean of this entire mess,” I shrug even though we both know I’m rambling nervously. “If you’re having a baby…” I struggle to find the right words.

“Dwight will just have another piece of you to love,” Nothing too philosophical, but it really is as simple as that.

“You’d do that for me, Kimmy?” Her watery eyes betray her softly teasing tone and I lean forward to envelop her in a hug, because she’s my best friend and I’d do anything for her, regardless.

“God, you women are so emotional!” I pop Liam on the back of the head knowing that his father won’t mind. The boy needs discipline. 

“Grown-up _only_ conversation,” I enunciate each word slowly and carefully to make sure the concept sinks in. 

“Since you’re already keyed into our conversation, Liam,” I pointedly give him a look. His father and I had both agreed that his punishment should start as soon as possible. Which is why he’d been prohibited from joining the other kids after lunch while they played. I was right. The no recess punishment was torture—for Sherry and me, at least. “Why don’t you come with me since there’s nothing for you to do here?” I suggest, not giving him a chance to argue.

The walk to the consignment store is pretty quiet as I take the time to ponder Sherry’s predicament. Liam stays closely glued to my side, his small hand clutching a fistful of my shirt, as we navigate the extensive hallways of The Sanctuary. I figure now’s a good time as any to discuss his recent behavior.

“That wasn’t a nice thing you did to Charlotte,” I comment, nudging the conversation gently in the direction that I want it to go. 

Liam reminds me so much of Negan, or what I imagine he’d have been like as a young boy. Their mannerisms are so identical, it’s freaky, and I watch the little boy from the corner of my eye weigh his response before he delivers it—bluntly, might I add. 

“You mentioned once that you had more brothers. Didn’t they ever do anything to piss you off?” So much like Negan, while at one point you’d been sure where the conversation was heading, you’re thrown a curveball. 

“Language,” I softly admonish.

“ _Negan_ curses all the fucking time,” I arch my brow at his chosen explicit. Although, he’s got me there. 

“ _Negan’s_ a grown man,” I decide on the most simple form of my response that'll give me as little back talk as possible. I should really have a talk with Negan later, apparently, he’s a role model now. _Lovely._

“Fine,” He huffs and after a beat, he continues. “Didn’t your brothers ever do anything that made you _mad_?”

“Yeah, they did actually.” I can’t help but laugh as memories come rushing over the floodgate I’d so carefully constructed around my old life. Only this time I welcome them. “Chase and I in particular,” Liam urges me to share what’s so funny in an impatient manner that only a child could possess.

“Well, this one time,” I begin to spin my narrative, and the images behind my eyes are so bright that they almost hurt to imagine. I’d locked this part away from me for so long, maybe it's time I let myself indulge. “I had one slice left of this super special strawberry cake that my mom made me because I didn’t eat milk or eggs, at the time. But Chase,” I chuckle and Liam get’s so impatient wondering what I’m thinking of. Honestly, the story itself isn’t that humorous—it’s the irony of it all.

“My brother decided that _he_ was going to eat it. His reasoning—if I was always yapping about people wanting to go vegan so badly, why was I complaining now?”

“He has a point,” Liam interrupts, and my response holds a hint of sourness.

“It was still mine,” Man, I’d do anything for a slice of that cake right now. “But the thing about Chase? He actually had my wellbeing at heart. He later told our mom that he was just trying to understand where I was coming from. I didn’t believe it then, but in his own way he did things to show me he cared.”

We both consider the weight of my words.

“Even if it makes you really upset and it’s kind of annoying?” I agree with him knowing that he’s referring to Charlotte. 

“What did Charlotte do?” I finally ask.

“Nothing,” He struggles with the words, his little brows puckering in concentration, “sometimes all she can do is follow me around. But she’s not tough like Lucas and Mason—she just cries.” He explains simply, and I respond in kind.

“Be grateful you have a sister, kid.” 

We reach the consignment doors and I part from Liam knowing that we’ll cover more ground that way. The Sanctuary’s consignment shop consists of several industrial-sized rooms, crammed with every possible item imaginable. The wall to floor shelves bulge with products, thrown in no particular order and I know we’ll be awhile. Pregnancy tests were pricey so I knew that there had to be some around here—I was just really unfamiliar with the layout and I’d forgotten to ask Sherry. Since I was technically Negan’s wife, I didn’t have to pay, but the thought was uncomfortable and I never really came down here much. 

“Found it, Kimberly!” I follow Liam's voice to the front counter. Boxes of pregnancy tests sit on a shelf behind it. The worker on duty, who’d obviously grown bored as this was the time most of the factory's inhabitants were on duty, had constructed what I had to admit was an impressive and elaborate tower stacked out of soap boxes. 

“Can I get this?” He holds up a light pink stuffed bunny. I tousle his red hair and agree before turning to make sure he’d actually found the pregnancy tests. I spot a pack of three and I eagerly step forward calling for the worker's attention before I place the bunny on the counter. 

“Well if it isn’t the man stealing whore, from over yonder,” Heather, one of Negan’s ex-wives steps out from behind the tower and my thoughts immediately sourer. Her mouth curves up in disgust. 

“I want that one,” I simply point to the box knowing exactly what kind of reaction that it’ll invoke. I watch her slim face transcend through a range of emotions before she decides on one—smugness.

“Well, well.” She clucks, plucking the box from the shelf. “I’d love front row seats to the shit show when Negan finds out you’ve been fucking around on him.” It’s useless to correct her, so I leave it. Instead, I urge her to write down what I’m taking so that I can be on my way.

“Nothing but a fucking slut,” She mumbles underneath her breath, leisurely taking her time getting the consignment record book. 

“Oops,” The thunderous echo of Heather’s soap tower collapsing causes me to jump. Beside the remains, Liam stands next to the pile of boxes with a docile look on his face, but I know better. 

“Fucking brat,” She hisses in our direction, frantically clutching what’s left standing. She knocks down several displays in her haste and I stifle a laugh. Good. Karma. 

I grab the pregnancy test and the bunny, telling Liam that it’s time to go. We go barreling through the doors and down the hallway crashing through people, and cackling our heads off. “For the record, I don’t condone that—but thank you,” I say sternly to Liam as we catch our breaths outside the classroom, the residual endorphins still dangling around us. 

Sherry pokes her head out the door in curiosity giving us a questioning look but I wave her off before handing her the pregnancy tests. 

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you _can’t_?!” I slap a hand over Liam’s mouth before sending him into the classroom with Charlotte’s bunny. 

When he’s gone I turn to address her, “What do you mean you can’t? Do you know what I had to do to get this?” It’s worth mentioning, and I fill her in before diverting back to my original narrative. 

“Go into that bathroom, and pee on this goddamn stick because I _guarantee_ you that we have like,” I check my watch. The same watch that Negan gifted me all those months ago, “less than a fucking hour before Negan gets back and shit hits the fan, and when I mean shit—I mean me punching Heather in her goddamn  face.”

I finish my rant with a deep breath and move to go back into the classroom. 

“Wait, pee on a stick with me.” We both give the bathroom adjacent to the classroom a simultaneous side eye. “Just so that I know that they’re not wonky, okay?” I snatch the box from her hand and enter the bathroom ripping open one of the packages. All the while grumbling underneath my breath as I piss on it. Without a backward glance, I place it on the small windowsill above the toilet and exit the bathroom.

“That’s how it’s done,” I comment, slipping into the classroom and breathing a sigh of relief when I realize that the kids haven’t managed to burn down the room. 

It never ceases to take my breath away every time I walk into my classroom. In the following months since Negan and I had painted the room, we’d added several new additions. Desks, for one. An extended reading center complete with pillows and towering bookshelves filled with children books and a play area. It's taken me months but this room was fully furnished and had everything that a classroom could need.

“Miss Kimberly,” Charlotte comes dashing through the rows of desk and bounds straight into my legs. “Look what Liam gave me,” She lowers her voice to a whisper, “he really does love me.”

“Told you,” I mouth. 

Seeing that the kids are pooped from playing outside— a strategy Sherry and I had cooked up one night while brainstorming—I call them all to the reading area and we settle in to finish _The Little Prince_. Anne wiggles her way into my arms and I let her before wrapping an arm around Paula. The eager eyes of the children staring back at me remind me of why I do this. My mother. Wherever she is I know she’s proud of me and the teacher I’d become. 

Several pages in Sherry slips quietly into the room and beckons me over. 

“Jane,” The little girl pops up like a rocket, eagerly picking up where I left off. She’d make a great teacher someday. I'm sure of this. 

“So what did it say?” I ask eagerly, her face is emotionless and gives nothing away. In my arms, Anne grunts softly and I hush her, softly rocking her in time to my tapping foot. The suspense is killing me. She reaches into her pants pocket and pulls out the test.

**Pregnant.**

“Oh, Sherry.” I babble. Although I’m not sure what else to say so I just nod my head and smile hoping that it looks encouraging. Having a baby could go several ways at The Sanctuary. Formula and diapers are handed out free of charge to the inhabitants of the factory. It was Negan’s strongest conviction—people are a resource. But still—a baby was a lot of work, and the risks taken in childbirth could be life-threatening.

“You’ll be an amazing mother and I’ll be there to help. Bronson and Simon will be the best gay uncles that your kid has ever had.” Just thinking about it get’s me kind of excited. I’m going to be an aunt and it’s not because of that harlot Tabitha who’s trying to claim my brother’s virtue. 

She cuts in pretty quickly, “It’s not mine.”

“I’m sorry, come again.” I‘m not sure I heard that right. I hush the kids before leaning in closely, asking her to repeat that last part.

“Both of the tests I took were negative,” She clarifies—loudly, might I add.

“Okay, so who does that belong to?”

“It’s yours, Kim.”

* * *

“Give me all those fucking tests,” I pant. My heart is thundering in my chest and it’s partially because I ran straight here from the classroom which is located on the opposite side of the factory. The other part is largely due to the crushing realization that I might be having a baby. How much had I drunk—smoked, in the past several months? My eyes water at the thought. I'm a terrible mother already. 

“I fucking knew it,” Heather sneers from her place behind the counter, and deciding that I can’t take any of her bullshit right now. I take a running start, hoisting myself onto the countertop, and grab as many pregnancy tests as I can. 

I knock down the parts of her soap tower she’d resurrected as an afterthought. The sounds of her frustrated shriek follow me out the door.

* * *

“I’m going to kill him,” I repeat it like a mantra as both Sherry and I gaze down at the eight pregnancy tests—that all read positive.

Around us, the kids have paired off and begun to practice their penmanship.

“When’s the last time you had a period?” I shake my head. Considering I don’t even remember the last time I’d had a full eight hours of sleep, there’s no way I’ll be able to answer that.

“I just thought it was… _stress_. There’s only been him, you know?” A scary thought crosses my mind and I consider the possibility that the baby could be Dwight’s. But I immediately dismiss it. We used protection and I’d be way farther along in my pregnancy. So that just left Negan—my baby's daddy. We’d only just gotten to know each other. Could we really handle a baby?

The thought frightens me and I have several ways of going about telling him he'd knocked me up, I realize. But I’m barely in my mid-twenties so I choose the most irrational. 

“Don’t do anything rash,” Slipping the small pistol from the desk that we keep for emergencies as well as a pregnancy test into the waistband of my skirt, I sidestep Sherry and make my way towards the door. 

“May I remind you, I walked up to The Saviors, _willingly_.” I hum as I briskly exit the classroom. My thoughts are going a mile a minute. I won’t kill Negan. I just wanna talk, honest. “Everything I do is rash.”

“Kick his ass, Kim!”

“ _Language_ , Liam.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm late. But as always, enjoy! x

“Where is he?” I practically roar. Every head in the courtyard whips around to face me. _Negan’s Saviors._ , I all but sneer his name in my head. They're just coming in from a run, but I pay that no mind— I’m on a warpath and they see that, so they're quick to get out of my way and point me in his direction. 

“Kim, _hey_!” Bronson attempts to grab the back of my shirt, but I sidestep his grip and whirl around to face him. His eyes drop instinctively to the object in my hand, and he freezes up, mouth agape and eyes wide. “Is that…?”

I walk past him without another word.

“Is he fucking in there?” Ethan’s standing guard at the RV door, and when he nods hesitantly I till him to move aside.

“You know I can’t do that, Kim. He said he didn’t…” I pull the gun from my waistband and put it to his forehead. 

“Move,” I barely utter the word but he gets the message. 

Without another word, I open the door. 

“Annie,” His usual greeting, but he elongates the ‘e’ making my name come out like a question and a warning at the same time. He’s grinning though and that all I can focus on, that shit eating grin. “What brings you to my humble abode? I’m doing business right now, darling.”

It's only then, do I realize that Negan’s sitting around the RV table with Dwight beside him, and two men across from them that I don’t recognize. Well, fuck him. I guess we’re both having plans interrupted today. With a steady hand, I point the gun at his forehead.

“Negan, you _jackass_.” I more or less spit out between clenched teeth. “I’m fucking pregnant!”

“Holy— _shit_!” The unknown man whistles as he pivots in the booth to face me then  Negan. “Let me get this straight, Dwight got _married_. Y _ou’re_ fucking engaged—like _monogamous—_ and she’s pregnant? What else did I miss while I was on outpost?”

Dwight slides out of the booth and pats me on the shoulder, before exiting the RV, mumbling something about not getting shot and one of the unknown men follows him out chuckling. "I'm Gavin, by the way." He offers in passing.

"Kimberly-Anne," I give him a small smile because I have manners and Negan's the one I'm pissed at. 

“Sweetheart, why don’t you sit down,” He pats his lap and I shoot him a ‘you can’t be serious’ face, the last thing I want to do is touch him. I’m pissed. I’m not ready to be a mom, and of _course_ , I would be the one to get knocked up out wedlock. If that bitch Jessica, from my Home Ec 112 high school class, could see me now. “This is Simon, my right-hand man.”

“Hey, hun,” Simon waves, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his mustache. He's far too amused.

“But we already have a Simon,” I return numbly. In my defense, I’m still reeling. I’m pregnant—under strenuous circumstances—and soon on my way to becoming a single mother. I say as much before adjusting my aim. “I thought you said you _couldn’t_ have kids, jackass!”

Negan rubs his beard thoughtfully, “What did I say _exactly_?”

I make a sound of disbelief, “Really, Negan?” 

He hold’s up his hands in surrender and I finally slip the gun into my waistband before sagging against the countertops. I’m speechless and yeah, I’ll admit it, I went off a little half-cocked. 

But what do I make of this? 

“I never graduated college, and we’re not even fucking married,” My eyes water and in the next instant, I’m bawling. “I’m practically a teen mom.” I sob in disbelief and both Simon and Negan begin to look weary. 

Fuckers.

“I should probably give the couple some alone time, huh?” Simon slides out the booth and gives us one final look before we’re alone.

I still remember the first time I’d stepped foot into this RV. I was scared shitless, my lip quirks at the thought. It was the scariest—and stupidest—thing I’d ever done, walking straight up to Negan’s men. But it was also the best decision I’d ever made. It'd led me to the jackass currently sweating bullets.

I smile fondly at the thought. Oh, how the tables have turned. Maybe I’ll shoot him? Give us matching scars. 

“You’re almost twenty-four, Annie.” He still looks uncomfortable, and I take pity on him, sliding into the other side of the recently vacated booth and setting my gun down between us.

“Pregnant?” I nod blearily, my mind now racing with a thousand thoughts. “You sure it’s mine?”

The heat in my palm blossoms and I watch with a sick fascination as Negan’s head turns sharply.

I didn’t hit him hard, just enough to knock some sense into him. 

“Obviously you need some time to process this,” I sniff getting up from the booth. This was such a stupid idea. I’d obviously fallen for someone with the emotional capacity of a brick wall. “I’m going back to the classroom.”

“Hey, none of that.” Negan catches my wrist and tugs me into his lap. I go with minimal protest. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He catches my chin so that I look up into his eyes shining with sincerity. 

“Why don’t we go see Doc later, figure this shit out,” My eyes water again as he refers to my pregnancy as essentially ‘shit.’

“So you don’t want the baby?” At his doubtful gaze, I elaborate. “You  just called our baby shit, Negan!”

He huffs squeezing me tighter, so every inch of my back is molded against his broad chest.  Internally, I curse my one-track mind as this is what had gotten us into our current situation. “Are you going to be this moody for the next nine months? Cause I’ll tell you right now, Annie Babe, it’ll be a _shit_ time.” His hands trail leisurely under the hemline of my shirt, the warmth of his hands slowly seeping into my bare skin.  “Maybe I can cheer you up?”

“Jackass, we’re in the RV.” I swat his wandering hands away, although the idea is alluring.

“Come on,” He teases, and I can practically feel his mirth as he chuckles against the side of my neck. “I haven’t seen my soon-to-be wife all day. How 'bout a mid-afternoon fuck? It’ll cure all your ails.” 

His calloused fingers drag the hemline of my skirt up, as his mouth begins to nuzzle the sensitive spot behind my ear. “It’s not like you can get even more pregnant, hmm?

He’s got me there.

Sensing my grudging assent, he pushes my skirt up around my waist, and delves into the front panties. I let out a slight gasp at the initial contact, before slackening against his frame.

“Goddamn it, honey.” He curses, dipping down to my entrance, collecting the wetness there before lightly circling my bundle of nerves. “Did you get this wet just by pointing that gun at my head? I _know_ it got me a little excited.” He pushes his hips up enough for me to feel his hardening length, gasping, I push back encouragingly. 

“Negan, you’re fucking crazy.” Hell, I’m crazy. I’m really about to let him bend me over this table and fuck me in the middle of a busy courtyard. 

“But you’re crazy about me,” He taunts as my eyes roll back from his fingers. They dance across my wet flesh before slowly entering my dripping entrance. He expertly adds another finger as he pumps them slowly and my hips begin to rock against them, all the while small mewls and dirty promises fall from my lips, whispering for him to make me cum.

“Let it go, Annie.” He grips my waist tighter as his fingers begin to make a lewd sound, filling the small space. I bite my lip to stifle the moans flowing forth, privy to the voices near the window. “I want everyone to hear what I’m doing to you.”

“But the window, Negan,” I huff as he pushes me off his lap, promptly bending me over the table.

“Fuck the window,” He growls, brazenly pulling down my skirt and underwear in the process. I’m left standing in the middle of the car, half-naked, as the clanking of his belt and the lowering of the zipper fill the room.

“ _Ung_ , fucking hell, Negan!” I forget all my inhibitions and self-promises to be quiet, as he slams forward, gripping my hips tightly, as he slides even deeper. The feeling of him stretching me brings about a delicious ache and I know I’ll be walking a little off later.

“Being inside your pussy is the best feeling, Annie.” I groan in agreement arching my back as he kicks my legs wider apart, slowly pumping his hips. “So wet—so fucking _tight_.” 

I can’t imagine the picture we must make. I’m half naked, while he’s fully dressed. We move against each other roughly, but careless as we both go careening towards our orgasms. My hips begin to bang against the edge of the table and he immediately cups my front, pulling me fully upright against him. I let loose a wail, as the position causes him to brush against the front of my inner wall, setting off my release and he curses,  before following shortly after. 

Negan reaches between us to cradle my stomach, and my heart clenches as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. “A baby,” He marvels, the emotion in his voice is all I need to hear. 

I reach down entwining our hands, uncaring of our current state of dishevelment. “Our baby,” I confirm.

Several minutes later I’m waddling down the hallway with my dignity in tatters, I barely look up until I’m safe in the confines of the Sanctuary’s classroom. Sherry looks up from helping one of the kids, taking note of the slight limp in my walk.

She snorts, “You really showed him. Huh, Kim?”

I wince as I sink into a nearby chair, “Shut up, please.” 


	5. Temporary Hiatus

I apologize to anyone who thought this was a chapter update. I've been slow to update this story, and I'm unsure why exactly. I want to do this storyline justice and I promise that I'll be back soon, with fresher ideas and better grammar. Until then, check out my other stories. :)

NegansOtherWife

Okay, mwah x


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